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"Percy!" the blonde yelled.
Percy sat in her desk chair, a textbook lying on his lap. While he was trying to study for their upcoming test in Pre-Algebra, Bronte jumped up and down on her bed. She held a new mythical card in her hand and was ecstatic to learn the story behind it.
He looked up unamused, but that was just because he was getting frustrated at the words bouncing off the pages. He wanted to be happy and smiling, but it was like everything was forcing him not to.
"B, we have to study," he said, rolling his eyes and turning away from her.
"Oh, come on," she whined, dropping down to her knees on the bed. She didn't know why hearing him call her that hurt so much. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop and to not use that nickname, but knew she should get over it sooner or later. She stopped jumping and stared at the raven haired boy who was facing away. "Just a few minutes of fun and then we can study."
Percy stayed persistent and closed his eyes, trying not to let her voice convince him to stop working.
"Pleaseee," she dragged out.
He kept his head down on the pages in front of him. He thought that it would distract him enough to not give in to her.
Bronte got off of the bed and walked over to him, removing the book from his grasp. Percy wasn't one to let go of things easily, both metaphorically and physically. His grip on the book tightened, which led to the two kids going back and forth, fighting over the Pre-Algebra textbook.
The blonde was about to win, before Percy gave one last final tug and she went flying to the ground. Bronte landed on her butt, her back and head hitting the wood floors not even a second later. She sat up, rubbing her head, which was starting to give her a headache.
Percy looked down at her, his eyes were wide as he dropped down next to her. "Oh my gods! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
Bronte forced a fake cry, as she pretended to be hurt. In reality, her head was pounding, but she cared more about proving her point then being hurt, so she rubbed the back of her head, and wiped a tear away from her face.
Percy seemed in distress, wanting to do whatever he could to help her.
What an idiot, she thought. He fell for her trap.
"You know what would make this better?" she asked, sniffling.
"What? What do you need?" Percy said, looking her body up and down. He checked to see if she was in any harm, even though she barely fell. He was being so over dramatic for no reason, but this was Bronte and he needed her to be okay.
"A break."
It was at that moment that Percy realized he was being played. Bronte was completely fine and was just using her fall as an act.
